


Cast the Broken Circle to the Waves

by Hexenjäger (Rodarolla2)



Category: Black Sails, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Billy Bones is Reincarnated Percival, Demigods, F/F, F/M, Jack Rackham is not to be messed with, M/M, Rating May Change, Slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-03-27 13:08:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19013536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rodarolla2/pseuds/Hexenj%C3%A4ger
Summary: Jack Rackham did not come awake like either of his two closest associations. It was not the instantaneous transition from sleeping to wakefulness with no ill effects like Anne Bonny. Nor was it the hazy but clear transition that was so often a result of a night of alcohol, opium, and brawling that Charles Vane had adopted. No, this was a slow process interspersed with bursts of pain. Pain specifically in the region of his head, as if someone had beat him over his head with what may have very well been a piece of metal. The ground was hard and pitched beneath him, as if it wasn’t his cot in his and Anne’s tent on the beach of Nassau that he had slept on, rather the floor of a ship and said ship was out to sea.





	1. Well Shit

**Author's Note:**

> Long time no post for anything. So this is a thing I came up with last night while typing up notes for something completely different. This AU, Children of the Divine, was actually created by me for Assassin's Creed, Rogue and Black Flag specifically. Funny how that the first story written in the AU isn't even Assassin's Creed. It's Black Sails. Edward Kenway may make an appearance in this story, I don't know yet.
> 
> Title from Measure of a Man by Heather Dale

Jack Rackham did not come awake like either of his two closest associations. It was not the instantaneous transition from sleeping to wakefulness with no ill effects like Anne Bonny. Nor was it the hazy but clear transition that was so often a result of a night of alcohol, opium, and brawling that Charles Vane had adopted. No, this was a slow process interspersed with bursts of pain. Pain specifically in the region of his head, as if someone had beat him over his head with what may have very well been a piece of metal. The ground was hard and pitched beneath him, as if it wasn’t his cot in his and Anne’s tent on the beach of Nassau that he had slept on, rather the floor of a ship and said ship was out to sea. The _Ranger’s_ quartermaster snapped his eyes open. He should not be out to sea, with the _Ranger_ having just put into port only a day prior. The back of his head throbbed, as if he had been hit, and hit hard, as if Charles had deigned to show his displeasure with Jack’s latest round of harsh-truth-speaking by hitting him. Which, for all their issues, for all the times Jack had said something that Charles did not want to hear, for all the times Charles has certainly _wanted_ to hit him, all he had ever done was a growled _get out_ and _fuck you, Jack_. He never hit him, and Jack had seen Charles beat men half to death for less than Jack’s constant annoyances, irritations, and speaking of things Charles _does not want to hear_. His hair felt plastered to his head. The jangle of chains as he reached to feel the back of his head stopped him short. The pirate looked disbelievingly at his hands which were chained together. Chained. What the fucking hell? He pushed himself up and looked around. This was not the _Ranger_ , or any ship’s hold that he recognized. Cells, for lack of a better word, were what filled this section of the hold. The cells around him were populated with people of ages ranging from middle age to young. Very young. Small child young. Jack has the intense urge to bundle them away from and repeatedly stab the cause of their tears and sniffles young. In his own cell, there were two other occupants. A girl and a boy. The girl looks the same age as Anne when Jack gave into that little voice in the back of his head and slit her husband’s throat. The boy just a little older than Jack during the abusive-fuck-throat-slitting.

 

“You got lotta blood on yer head.” The boy muttered at him. Jack reached back and his fingers came back not red, but he could definitely feel the wound and the dried blood. Not good.

 

“Yes, I rather suspected that when I woke. Hair felt quite matted.” Jack cleared his throat. He looked at the boy in detail who just shrugged. He was of a size that Jack felt Charles would be at that age, though, he admits, that was just speculation, seeing that Charles was well into his twenties when they met and this boy, if he appears to be the age Jack thinks he is, is not even twenty yet. The boy had stubbly, patchy hair, as if he had shaved it off and now letting it grow back, but it is growing unevenly, and in the same familiar shade as Charles’ long hair that he amusedly let Jack braid now and again. His eyes were more of a shade similar to his own rather than Charles, as everything else about him seemed to take after. The boy did not curl up, like the girl in the opposite corner from him, rather sprawled in a way that was distinctly Charles-like. Jack really did not know how to process the fact that he seemed to be imprisoned, in some form anyhow, with a smaller version of Charles. What’s next, the girl be a tinier version of Anne? Jack had to repress a shudder at that thought. Mini Anne and Mini Charles.

 

“They threw you in here bout three days ago.” This time the girl spoke. Her voice wasn’t raspy like Anne’s, but rather a little smoother. She lifted her head up from where it rested on her knees. Dirty red hair fell about her face, but couldn’t obscure her piercing blue eyes. Bluer than Charles’. He’d venture to say they were nearly as blue as the sea, the sky, hell, John Silver’s eyes. Impossibly blue. She was also very pale. However, he was displeased to notice, that paleness was nearly eclipsed by the dirt on her, like she had not bathed in some time. Though, it appears that she has been here at least as long as he has been unconscious, which is a worrying amount of time.

 

“Three days?” Jack inwardly cursed violently. Neither Anne nor Charles would be pleased with that. That is, a dark little voice he has always done his best to quash, if they even care. Of course Anne cares about him. It has always been the two of them against everything. And Charles. Charles likes him enough that he won’t beat him for, well, everything he could. At the very least, he’ll care about Jack’s absence as quartermaster disrupting his plans.

 

“Yeah.” The girl studied him with eyes that were a scary combination of Charles, Anne, and something else. “Who’s your Divine?” That caused him to pause in his frets about his two violent associations. He met her eyes and for the first time in a very long time, he let himself just _sense_. Everyone in the cells lit up that other sense of his. This just… became quite complicated.

 

“Brid.” He replied. “And yours, Miss?”

 

“I go by Flynn.” Her lips quirked. “Scathach.” His brows rose in surprise. Scathach was one of the few Divines who had _very_ few children. She had only slightly more than the Morrigan. At least, Awakened children anyhow. The Morrigan only ever has one Awakened in an age. Scathach has more, but not many. The pirate looked to Mini Charles as if to ask the same of him.

 

“Name’s Kay.” His voice _was_ like Charles’. Albeit younger, but still. It was frankly unsettling. “Cernunnos.” Jack, honestly, didn’t find himself surprised. If Charles was a Child of the Divine, he would be one of Cernunnos’ brood.

 

“Pleasure to make your acquaintances.” Jack acknowledged. “Jack Rackham. Would you happen to have any clue to our reason for being here?”

 

“Slave labor.” Flynn didn’t even hesitate. “They track us Awakened’s down and swipe us when the chance presents itself.” Well, shit. How long had this nebulous group of they been stalking the _Ranger_ , looking for the chance at him, when he had neither Anne nor Charles beside him to thwart them? How well did they hide their tracks so that his two violent associations did not sniff them out like a bloodhound and take their revenge for them daring to take what is _theirs_? Fuck, if only he had kept his fucking mouth shut for once, Charles would not have thrown him out, even if Anne would still be gone for the night. It was not unheard of for Charles to physically keep Jack with him when drunk and high on opium. They, whoever they were, would have had to fight through Charles to get to Jack then. And Charles has killed men over Jack before. But slave labor. He wished that he was more surprised. Well, he was that they thought _he_ was a good choice, unless it wasn’t so much the physical labor they wanted from him, which he did not want to entertain the thoughts that went along with that. Awakeneds would be the perfect slaves, if you managed to break them, which was a big if in a good number of cases. Awakeneds were stronger, faster, and more resilient than normal humans. They were harder to hurt and quicker to heal. They didn’t get sick, unless from poison. They aged up to a certain point then not again, depending on when they Awakened, or they froze in their current age. They didn’t die except in extraordinary circumstances. No death by old age or illness, save for poisoning, again. The pirate pursed his lips.

 

“No one ever finds them again.” Kay shifted to where his left leg was still extended, but his right was drawn up towards his chest. His right arm draped over that knee. He would be an exact copy of Charles’ devil may care relaxation, but for the fact that Jack had noticed how he had slightly hunched his shoulders and his left hand, which he tried to obscure the view of was clenched into a fist and trembling.

 

“Well. Perhaps the right people were not looking.” He gave a smile of false bravado. “My crew will tear apart the Caribbean till they find me.” At least Anne will. And Anne was not one to be trifled with or underestimated.

 

“Your crew?” The two cocked their heads at him. Fuck how many times had Charles and Anne done that very thing at him when he was talking?

 

“Yes.” Jack smoothed a hand over his hair, careful to avoid his wound. “You see, I am the quartermaster to the _Ranger_.” He could see their eyes widen. Who _hadn’t_ heard of the _Ranger_?

 

“You…” Flynn looked like she couldn’t believe it. “Well, I suppose that if anyone would have the balls to take up that position and keep it with a captain like Charles Vane, it would be an Awakened of Brid.” Kay just stared at him.

 

“Must be really good with a sword.” He huffed. Jack laughed.

 

“A sword? Oh, no. I can hold my own enough to not get killed immediately, but I am not a fighter such as the others on the ship.” Jack chuckled. “My strengths lie in the intellectual, so much in fact that Charles has forbid me from the boarding parties unless absolutely necessary. Though, I will admit, I am quite the decent shot and quite deadly with a pair of knives, especially with stealth on my side.” The two just stared at him before Flynn shrugged.

 

“Fair enough. I prefer knives, stealth, and shooting to swords, but I’m pretty good with swords.” Flynn nodded. Any further conversation was derailed by a loud bang. Jack noticed the near imperceptible flinch Flynn did, as well as Kay hunching further into himself. Around him, Jack saw his fellow slaves-to-be attempt to make themselves. It made his blood boil. He remembered nights where Charles did near the same thing while recounting his past to him and Anne. On those nights, hurts were closer to the surface for everyone involved. Anne’s demons, which Jack only knew too well, having been the one to deal with their cause in the first place, though he could not help the scars, as much as he would like, caused her to draw up in a way that she only ever let Jack see her do any other time except those nights. Charles barely hanging onto the present, near lost in his horrid past, a past no one, especially not as young as Charles had been at the time, and Jack felt so powerless to ease his pain, ease Anne’s pain. On those nights, the dark voice that he had given into when he slit James Bonny’s throat urged him to hunt Albinus down, make him pay, curse him. Cut off his head and bring it to Charles like an offering. He never gave into that voice on those nights. Instead, _he_ was the strong one. He drew his two most important people to him. He held them as he smoothed their hair, sang to them in another tongue, songs of healing, of peace. Songs he never heard, but knew deep in his soul, for Brid, for all her dark and fierce aspects, was a Divine of love, of healing, of so much. In those nights, he let what he was slip for just a time, though his precious ones never knew what he was. He always promised himself on those nights that he would _die_ , leave the mortal world for the _Fae Land_ before he saw Charles in chains once more, before he saw Anne so abused once again. With those images in mind, he straightened his back, a hateful, defiant look in his eyes. Brid was called protector, guardian of children. He will look after the ones around him, even if it is just by focusing attention on himself.

 

“Well, well. Look’s who’s finally awake.” A rather unimpressive looking man grinned at the glaring pirate, leaning close to the bars of his cell. Jack stood up, silent. “Jack Rackham, quartermaster of the _Ranger_. You were a hard man to snatch. Almost as hard as that little cook on the _Walrus_.” Silver was an Awakened? That… explained some things. Namely their getting on so well, much to the fury of both their captains.

 

“The fact that he is not here means you failed in capturing him.” Jack sneered. “And the only reason you _dared_ make a move against me was because you were safe away from Charles Vane’s wrath.” His lips quirked. “Though, you’ve just made yourself _two_ enemies that you could _never_ afford to have.” The man’s face twisted in rage. A hand darted out and grabbed his shirt. Jack was slammed forwards into the bars. “What, scared? Because you know that you’ve pissed Vane and Anne Bonny off by daring to lay hands on what they consider _theirs_? Because you know that they will hunt you to the ends of the earth, laying a path of destruction until there is nowhere left to hide?” A vicious smirk stretched across his lips. “Though, if you couldn’t even take the _Walrus_ cook when no one was around, how do you expect to stand against the wrath of Vane and Bonny?”

 

“We had the little bastard until that fucking _Old Soul_ charged in!” The man snarled. Old Soul? Who the hell? Jack quickly flipped through who would be willing to risk their necks for Silver. It would have to be a member of the _Walrus_ crew. Not all of the crew would have the ability to drive off the multiple attackers _and_ keep them from Silver, who was most likely unconscious as well, if their method of taking him was the same as the one employed in capturing himself. He could think of two off the top of his head: Flint himself and Billy Bones. Bones. It has to be Bones. Flint was in the tavern, with Eleanor Guthrie, at the time it must have happened. Bones though, Bones he had passed in his agitated walk away from the _Ranger_ tents. Not to mention, he always kind of felt something _off_ about Bones. That was something to talk to the man about later. The man’s features smoothed out. “No matter. We’ll get the little bastard soon enough.” The man smiled in a vicious, vicious manner. “We’re approaching your new home, Rackham. Your crew _will never find you_.”

 

“Keep telling yourself that.” Jack smirked. “Charles Vane will tear the Caribbean apart looking for me. And when he does, especially since I have no doubt he will be in talks with that Old Soul and the cook once they learn that I have been abducted, you will beg for mercy that will never come. You will beg for deliverance, for your ancestors to never have been born. You will beg and beg and beg. Your begging will fall on deaf ears for you have dared to lay hands on what is Charles Vane’s and Anne Bonny’s.” His voice was low and it carried through the near silence of the hull. He let a grin reminiscent of Charles’ in the middle of a good fight. Wild, feral, _dangerous_. “That is, if I don’t kill you first for what you have done to the people around me and the others before.” The man shrunk back a little. As much as it pains him to give up the element of underestimation, it was worth it for the peace it could very well give the poor souls around him for a time. Whatever the man was about to say in response was interrupted by a cry of land from deck.

 

“You better get used to your chains, Rackham.” The man snarled. “For where you’re going, Vane can’t follow.”

 

“ _Gabh transna ort fhéin*._ ” Jack snarled in response. He glared as the man and his cronies walked out, slamming the door as they went. When he was certain they were gone, Jack sunk to the ground again.

 

“You’re sure he’s coming for you?” Jack looked to his side to see a little girl staring at him from wide blue eyes. She couldn’t have been older than seven. Jack shifted to a kneeling position in front of her.

 

“Yes.” He smiled softly at her. “More sure than I have _ever_ been of anything.”

 

“Will he get us too?” She whispered.

 

“Darling, he would sooner die than leave anyone in chains.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “Especially a child.”

 

“Pinky swear?” She looked at him fiercely. Jack held out his pinky through the bars.

 

“I pinky swear.” She nodded. “And if for some reason he does want to leave anyone behind, though I have never _ever_ known that to happen, I will personally kick his ass until he takes everyone with him.”

 

 

Jack had no idea the passage of time between that cry of land and when the doors slammed open again to permit an entourage of well-dressed men to saunter into the hold. Jack didn’t scramble to his feet, but it was a swift transition from where he was sitting, still holding the little girl’s hand and Flynn and Kay having moved to lean against him, to standing at the bars, Charles Vane-worthy glare of anger and danger back in place. He had always had a distaste of slavers, even before Charles had decided to trust Jack with his horrid past. That distaste had only grown since Charles had trusted him with that. He could tell what these men were, even without Flynn having imparted that knowledge however long ago that was, even without the visit from the man before. The way these men inspected the poor souls in the hold like livestock, the writing down in ledgers their findings, it all told him what they were. That dark little voice howled and raged inside him, sounding more like Charles in a slavery-induced-rage than Jack’s own darkened voice than ever before. When the men came to him, inspected him like chattel, he snarled and he raged, called down curses from the Divines. He struggled until they subdued him and continued on with their inspection. Then, they rounded up all the poor souls and chained them together to march them from the one ship to another one. As he walked, he committed every detail to memory. The people, the appearance, the nearby land. The nearby island was one he recognized. How often had the _Ranger_ stopped on the other side to give the crew a slight break before continuing to Nassau? How many times had Charles dragged him to the little secluded waterfall and pool with the sole excuse to get Jack naked, while they did their little dance around each other that Anne had multiple times told him to just kiss him already? When they were marched down into the ship, Jack, Flynn, and Kay were placed in a cell with the young ones. Perhaps to keep an eye on them. That meant the little girl who he pinky-swore that Charles would not leave anyone behind with curled up on his lap, tiny frame trembling as he carded his chained hand through her messy brown hair, crooning a soothing song in her ear. If he and Charles ever had a child, this little girl is what he imagined them to look like. His own dark hair with Charles’ eyes. The other young ones crowded around the three of them. Boys tended to crowd around Kay and the girls around Flynn. Jack himself had a mixture of them all. He would do his utmost to protect them all until Chaz found him, found them. It meant it was time to brush off his spell-work. If he could get a message to _someone_ , Chaz or Anne or Silver or Bones, then they could begin the search. He looked down at the sleeping form in his lap. Yes. The sooner the better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * this is Irish. More or less translates to "Go fuck yourself sideways"
> 
> Next chapter will be the three days Jack missed from people still on Nassau's perspective.
> 
> Fun fact: Kay was originally supposed to be a Welsh boy from Swansea who sails under Edward Kenway and Kenway was going to be tearing the Caribbean apart looking for his missing Child of the Divine protege. Now he's a Scottish boy that looks an unsettling amount like Charles Vane.


	2. Where's Jack?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ranger Crew finds out Jack is missing. A new Awakened and another type of more-than-human enters the picture. The Walrus and the Ranger team up to find Jack's kidnappers and the attackers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys. My goal is to have this updated once a week, preferably on Wednesdays. However, I only have the next chapter written and I have limited amount of time to write until July. 
> 
> Bio-archaeology field school in Romania is keeping me busy y'all. Monday through Friday in the field, weekends off, but trips to different places around on the weekends. Fingers crossed on the updates.

It wasn’t the sunlight or the sounds of Nassau that woke Charles Vane from his opium and rum induced slumber. It was a swift, harsh kick to his side. The pirate captain snapped awake, hand automatically reaching for a nearby weapon.

 

“The fuck’s Jack?” Anne Bonny glared down at him. “Leave him with you for the night and he aint nowhere.”

 

“The fuck if I know.” Vane glared at her. “We argued. He left. Fell asleep not long after.” Anne just glared at him. “Check the fucking tavern or whorehouse.” After a moment of tense silence, he growled as he heaved himself up, only bothering to pull on his boots before stomping out his tent. Seeing a majority of the _Ranger’s_ crew around, he raised his voice. “Any of you fuckers seen Rackham?” He scowled when the general consensus seemed to be last night, when he had left Vane’s tent to head back towards the town.

 

“Fucking course.” Anne growled. “Ain’t no one seen him there.”

 

“The fuck could he have gone?” Vane looked to the town then the surroundings. By unspoken consensus, the two of them split up to scour the island, top to bottom, to find the wayward quartermaster.

 

* * *

 

 

John Silver came awake slowly with a throbbing head.  He tried to remember what had happened but came up mostly blank. He had been walking from the tavern, towards where the rest of the _Walrus_ crew had made camp. He turned down a street, then pain. He had felt hands on him, but everything was blurry. Then an angry voice roaring to get their hands off him. A harsh drop to the ground, then everything was black. What happened? He opened his eyes and saw that he was in a room in the inn. It was daylight and he could feel something wrapped around his head. He groaned as he tried to push himself up.

 

“Hey! Hey! Easy, Silver.” Large hands gently pushed him back down on the bed as Billy Bones’ face came into view. “Don’t try to get up right now.”

 

“What the hell happened?” John blinked up at the bosun.

 

“Don’t rightly know except someone was trying to kidnap you.” He reached for a jug of water and poured him a glass. “Saw ‘em hit you from behind and then I went after them.” John gratefully accepted the cup. John thought over it and a rumor he had heard came to mind. His face lost what little color it had, and it was all he could do to keep from choking or spitting out the water. He had heard about Awakeneds being taken in secret off the streets when alone and that was a large part of the reason he had surrounded himself with people. “You know something.”

 

“You need to get someone to check in on Rackham.” Silver tried to push himself up.

 

“Rackham?” Billy furrowed his brows.

 

“If they went after me, then they have people after Rackham.” John leveled a serious look. “I’ve heard about people like me and Rackham people taken off the street, never to be seen again.”

 

“Awakened Children of the Divine, you mean.” John gaped at Billy. How did he know? “I’m an Old Soul, Silver. I might not be able to sense things like you Awakeneds can, but I can tell.”

 

“Right.” John cleared his throat. “I’ve been hearing about Awakeneds being kidnaped. It’s part of the reason I started sailing with crews, so I’m not an easy target.”

 

“Haven’t heard those rumors, but there aren’t many Awakeneds down here.” Billy shrugged.

 

“Does the captain…” John trailed off, hoping Billy caught his meaning.

 

“He don’t know about me, none of the crew does.” Billy shook his head. “And I ain’t said a word about what you are either. Know how secret and personal that is.”

 

“Thanks.” He sighed. It was silent for a moment as John contemplated everything. “So. Who were you, originally? You don’t have to answer, but in exchange, I’ll tell you my Divine.”

 

“Percival.” Billy smirked. Percival? Just Percival? John’s eyes widened.

 

“Shit. You don’t mean _of the Round Table_ , do you?” Billy nodded. “Holy shit. How fucking funny is this? My Divine is Nimue.” It was Billy’s turn to laugh.

 

“The Lady of the Lake.” He shook his head. “Two people from one legend on Flint’s crew.”

 

“Guess this means we really have to look out for each other.” John beamed. Billy poured him another cup of water. This time, John’s eyes flashed gold for just a moment before he drank. Billy, familiar with what that meant, reached up to unwind the bandage from John’s head.

 

“Yeah. And Rackham, too.” Billy held out his hand to help John up. “Speaking of, let’s go check up on him and warn him, yeah?”

 

* * *

 

Charles Vane was at his wits end. Jack was _nowhere_ to be found on this fucking island. No one had seen him after the crew saw him storm off after their argument night before last. Not at the tavern. Not the whorehouse. He couldn’t find any trace of him inland. _Nothing_. Anne appeared by his side.

 

“Flint told me he heard bout Jack.” Great. Just what he needed, Flint knowing about his current weakness. “Said that some of his crew might know something.”

 

“Fuck’s his price though?” Charles scowled.

 

“Said knowing some secrets bout his crew was.” That caught him off guard. “Some of his crew’s been hiding shit and they aint talkin’ till me n you are there.”

 

“Where are they?” This is going to be interesting.

 

“Guthrie’s office.” The two swiftly made their way to the meeting place. He wasn’t sure what to make of this. Who on Flint’s crew knew about Jack? How had they kept whatever secrets from Flint? Where the fuck was Jack? Did he get himself killed? Something worse? An image of Jack in chains flashed unbidden before his eyes. _Anything but that_. Any fucking deity out there listening, please, let it be anything but Jack in chains. More images of Jack in chains flashed before him. Jack, injured, cold, chained in a dank ship. Jack facing the lash for his mouthiness. If someone had touched Jack to put him in chains, he would tear them to fucking pieces. He’d still tear whoever laid hands on Jack to fucking pieces, but this would be _worse_. Jack shouldn’t have to live what Charles did. _No one_ should. But that would _destroy_ Jack. Destroy the Jack he knew and… fuck… loved. He loved Jack. Loved him different, but the same, as he loved Eleanor. It would fucking destroy him. So lost in the thoughts of Jack and the horrible possibilities that his quartermaster could be facing that he didn’t notice when they arrived. He met Anne’s eyes and nodded. He wasn’t gentle when he opened the door. He slammed it open and blew in like a hurricane, Anne following behind and kicking it closed. In the room, only Flint and two of his crew members were there. Billy Bones, who he nodded at in greeting, and the new cook. The cook looked very nervous and nearly twitchy. Bones sat beside him, eyes hard and arms crossed across his chest. This really ought to be interesting.

 

“Misters Silver and Bones say they know something about Rackham.” Flint near growled, glaring at his bosun and cook. The cook shrank a little and Bones nudged him with his knee. This caused Flint’s glare to sharpen.

 

“Fucking out with it.” Charles snarled at them. The two looked at each other before the cook cleared his throat.

 

“Right. Um. First.” His voice was filled with bravado he clearly didn’t feel, lot like Jack when he first came to his crew. “You should know Rackham’s been keeping secrets too. Or, at least, I’m assuming he hasn’t told you the truth.” Charles beared his teeth in a vicious snarl. How _dare_ this little fucker call Jack a fucking _liar_! Suddenly Bones was out of his chair and between Vane and the cook, hand on his sword.

 

“Fucking listen to him, Vane.” Bones glared.

 

“Are you his knight in shining armor now, Billy?” Flint glared.

 

“You find out where the fuck my armor’s buried then I’ll put it the fuck on.” Bones growled at his captain. That was not something anyone expected. Not Flint, not Anne, and certainly not Vane. The cook gave him a grateful smile as Bones sat down beside him again.

 

“Fine.” Vane grunted. “Go on.”

 

“Alright. So, Rackham and I are what’s called Children of the Divine.” The cook continued. “That, put simply, means we have a human parent and a god or goddess parent. It is very jealously guarded information, you must understand.”

 

“What, you’re _a demigod_?” Flint snorted.

 

“Yes.” Bones and the cook spoke in unison.

 

“Least, Silver and Rackham are.” Bones shrugged. What the fuck is going on?

 

“Fuck you pulling?” Anne snarled. “You said you knew where Jack is.”

 

“Not exactly.” The cook replied. “We said that we have information that could help you find Jack, not that we knew where he was.” Charles growled. Bones sat up straighter. “Look. Most of us don’t know about our heritage and those of us that do, we call ourselves Awakened, well. It’s dangerous to go spreading that knowledge.” He looked around, meeting everyone’s eyes. “Executions, attempted murders, and a whole host of other things.”

 

“Right. Say we believe you.” Flint scoffed to the glare of his bosun. “Then what the fuck does that have to do with Rackham?” Bones growled low in his throat. The cook shrank in his seat before straightening up.

 

“I heard rumors floating around through other Awakeneds before coming down here.” His eyes were hard. “Awakeneds are stalked and taken from the streets when alone. They aren’t seen again. So I started falling in with crews, to make myself less of a target.”

 

“Not many Awakeneds down here.” Bones picked up. “Before Silver, Rackham was the only other one I had seen here. Didn’t hear the rumors. Doubt Rackham had either.”

  
“Right. So you think these rumors are why Rackham’s missing.” Flint didn’t sound like he believed them.

 

“We _know_.” They spoke in unison again.

 

“How?” Vane leaned against the wall, crossing his arms.

 

“Because _I_ was attacked.” The cook replied. Flint stood straight up. No matter how he felt about his crew keeping secrets, attacking _his crew_ was an attack on _him_.

 

“Saw it go down.” Bones scowled. “Silver’s coming from the tavern and he turned down a street. Saw some bastards hit him on the head from behind. Went after them. Killed at least two. Two others ran off. Last two I know I injured, but they ran off too. Brought Silver to the tavern, got a doctor for his head.”

 

“When I came to in the morning, I suggested that we check in on Rackham, because if they went after me, then they had people after him.” Silver looked at his hands. “He was gone. If I had to guess, we were attacked at the same time.” Charles thought this over. Jack was a fucking demigod, one of two in Nassau. People were hunting demigods and the only reason they had this lead was because Bones had seen Silver attacked.

 

“You had to guess, why would they go after you people?” Charles asked. They looked at each other.

 

“Slave labor.” Charles could feel his heart stop.

 

“Why.” This was the worst outcome he could think of.

 

“If you can break an Awakened,” the cook began, “they would make some of the best slaves, logically speaking.” His breath hitched. “We don’t age. We don’t get sick, except for poisoning. We’re stronger and faster than normal humans.” His voice was getting slightly hysterical. “We don’t get hurt as easily and heal faster.” Bones placed a hand on his shoulder. As much as he loathed to think it, an Awakened would be a better slave. Charles hated the thought.

 

“Break them how?” Charles grit out.

 

“Their will to fight back, what else?” Bones drew the cook closer to him. Poor bastard looked to be shaking apart. “Awakeneds are really strong, even the so thought of weaker gods and goddesses. Break that will and you have all that power under your control.”

 

“You an Awakened?” Anne stared at him.

 

“No. Old Soul.” He shook his head. “Means I lived and died once, but now I’m back.”

 

“Who were you?” Flint studied him. The cook and Bones laughed. “Something funny?”

 

“Percival.” Bones snorted.

 

“Percival…” Flint raised an eyebrow. The two just laughed harder. Flint gaped after a moment. “Not of the Round Table?” Bones nodded through his laughter. Charles and Anne stared at them disbelievingly. “Why are you laughing?”

 

“My Divine is Nimue.” The cook wheezed. “Lady of the Lake.” Flint just stared at the two.

 

“What’s Jack?” Anne cocked her head. The two took a moment to get themselves together.

 

“No idea.” The cook shook his head. “He doesn’t seem to really use his abilities, so I would be surprised if he recognized me as another Awakened.”

 

“But you know he’s an Awakened?” Charles stared him down.

 

“Well, yeah.” He gave him a look. “We can sense other Awakeneds, especially if we actually use our abilities.” He sighed. “We’ve told you all we can. Your best bet to finding Rackham is to go after the two Billy injured. With any luck, you’ll be able to get them to tell you where they would be taking him.”

 

* * *

 

 

Charles reveled in the terrified look the two bastards gave him as he burst into their hideout. Following their meeting, Flint had offered his aid in tracking down Silver’s attackers and Rackham’s kidnapers. They were a threat to members of his crew and needed to pay for their transgressions. Bones refused to be parted from Silver and Silver from Bones. They gathered some of their crews and explained that someone took Rackham and tried to take Silver. They then split the members, mixing _Walrus_ and _Ranger_ crewmen together. Charles, Flint, Anne, Bones, and Silver made up one group and they set about scouring the island. It had been Anne who caught the scent of the fuckers, but Charles had been the one to hunt them down. He heard swords being drawn and pistols being cocked behind him.

 

“Where is my quartermaster?” He snarled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is Jack finding a way to help out the Ranger and Walrus find him.


	3. Once Upon Charles' Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I may or may not have next week's chapter up by Wednesday. Next week is last week of field school and as part of the field school, which is also counting as class credits for university, I have to participate in a group project, which I will be working on over the weekend, which is writing time, since I have very little free time during the week (Tuesday/Thursday have mandatory events right after dinner, which is at 7. I get done in the field at 5 and then have to wash up for dinner. I'm normally passed out before ten because archaeology is exhausting.). So, if I don't have next week's chapter ready, I'll post two the week after (plenty of time to work during my flights home and after.)

If Jack could give an estimate, he would say they had been sailing for a week after they made the ship switch. It did, of course, make the plan he had in mind simultaneously harder and easier. Easier, because he had near unlimited time to devote to the execution and preparation of the plan. Harder, because he had no fucking clue where they were or where they were going. Elisabeth, the little girl he had pinky swore to, Lizzy for short, spent most of her time attached to him in some way, be it sitting in his lap or clutching an arm or hand to herself. It was altogether adorable, in his opinion. Luckily for them both, her attachment was not a hinderance to his plan preparation, as he spent most his time in some sitting position in a near meditative state. His spells were not the strongest, being very wary in engaging in the more witchcraft-y aspects of his heritage for very justifiable reasons. He would prefer _not_ to be burned at the stake, thank you very much. What he had in mind, however, was more of a dream walking spell. Provided he could get it to work, which was a big if, he could directly communicate with someone, preferably someone he had a strong bond with such as Charles or Anne, and give them as much help as possible in finding him.

 

“Jack, are you gonna dreamwalk soon?” Lizzy looked up from where she had idly been playing with the larger chains on Jack’s wrists.

 

“Hopefully tonight, poppet.” He replied.

 

“Who you gonna go to?” She cocked her head.

 

“Chaz, first. He’s the one who would be calling all the shots.” He hmmed. “He would also probably be the easiest to reach, if he has continued his drinking and smoking of opium prior to collapsing in bed.”

 

“If you can’t get him?” She snuggled closer to him.

 

“Anne.” He didn’t hesitate. “She would also be quite easy, perhaps easier than Chaz, on account of how close a bond we have. That is, if she even sleeps. I was injured one time and she did not sleep for days until I woke from my recuperating sleep.”

 

“Can’t get both?” Jack curled an arm around her. Lizzy clutched it to her, eyes sliding shut.

 

“I’d go for either Billy Bones or John Silver, which ever I could get first.” Jack pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “If neither of them, which ever ally I could get first.”

 

“Good luck.” She murmured.

 

“I’ll need all the luck I can get, poppet.” Jack settled back against the wall. He closed his eyes and decided a nap was in order. He wouldn’t be properly sleeping that night. No, he would not be sleeping.

 

* * *

 

 

“You remember what you are to do, yes?” Jack looked at Kay and Flynn seriously. The two teens nodded. “Good.” Lizzy had been moved to Flynn’s lap stared at him with wide eyes. “Kay, keep a look out. Flynn, Lizzy, keep an eye on the others for me, alright? Wake me if the overseers come down.” At their nods and promises Jack laid down and closed his eyes. Between one breath and the next, he had slipped into that in between state that he would use to traverse the dreamscape.

 

* * *

 

The dreamscape was not hazy or dark. It wasn’t just a blankness. No, for Jack, it was a beach. Nassau’s beach, to be exact. He could see Nassau in the distance and the _Ranger_ tent enclave on the horizon. He had not been there with intent to walk among dreams, not that there were any to be touched, considering it was during the day when he Walked. Now however, it was night and little lights shown through the tents, each representing a different crew member. The tent that he and Anne shared was dark, symbolizing that she, at least, did not sleep, not while Jack was gone. That would be fine, in this instance, since he was seeking Charles in particular. To his great delight, a brilliant light shone from Charles’ tent. Excellent. Hopefully he could reach him. He stepped into the tent.

 

* * *

 

Charles Vane was laying on the beach somewhere, not a stitch of clothing on him, save his necklace. That was fine. He liked being naked quite a lot. A small shadow fell on his face.

 

“Honestly Charles. Why should I be surprised that you are in the buff?” A familiar voice huffed. “You take every excuse to strip down whenever, why I expected something else in your dreams I do not know.” Charles let a lazy grin cross his face as he reached out and wrapped a large hand around the nearest ankle of his quartermaster and tugged. He chuckled at the indignant squawk as Jack was pulled down to straddle his hips.

 

“Be better if you were naked too.” He ran his hands up the still clothed thighs.

 

“Charles.” Jack sighed. It sounded exasperated.

 

“Jack.” The captain purred in delight as Jack had to brace himself on his chest to keep his balance, and distance as Charles tried to pull him down for a kiss.

 

“No. I refuse to allow our first kiss to be while I am Divines-know-where and in a dream.” Charles cracked open an eye. The fuck was Jack on about?

 

“Jack.” He leveled him with an annoyed look. “You are missing and when I wake up, you won’t be there. Let me have this.” Jack was quiet.

 

“Yes.” That one word after such a long pause from his talkative quartermaster had him sitting up and pulling him in for a kiss, only to be thwarted by a finger pressed to his lips. “I am very much aware of that fact.” That’s when Charles finally realized something was off. He hadn’t been on the beach before. He had been charging around a ship looking for Jack, only to keep seeing him in chains in the distance, but no matter how fast he ran, he could never reach him. “Ah. Finally. You realize.”

 

“Jack, what the fuck is going on?” Charles really took in his appearance. Jack was a bit haggard looking.

 

“After days of careful preparation, I have managed to enter your dreams.” Jack replied.

 

“Where are you?” Charles clutched his shoulders.

 

“Currently? Somewhere on the sea. I have no idea.” Jack replied. “Remember this island?” He swept a hand around him.

 

“Yeah. We like to stop here for a day or two before going back on to Nassau.” Charles nodded. “It’s about three days from Nassau.”

 

“Yes. We were transferred from the ship to another one here. It’s been about a week since.” Jack continued. “I have no idea the final destination, only that we are nearing it. The bastards who took us seem oh so confident that I’ll remain in chains.” Charles tightened his grip as his heart sank. “Oh, don’t give me that look. I know you _never_ wanted me in chains.”

 

“Silver said that they went after you cause you were alone. They stalked you.” Charles bit out through the lump in his throat. “You wouldn’t be like this if I hadn’t kicked you out. It’s my fault.”

 

“Oh, Chaz, no.” Jack soothed. “I mean, yes, you kicking me out while Anne was otherwise occupied _did_ give them the opportunity to grab me, but it is _not_ your fault.” He sighed. “I am also to blame. I should have not pressed so much. But, ultimately, the blame squarely rests with these bastards who hunt us, hunt _children_ with the sole purpose of enslaving them.” He snapped his head up to look at Jack, who was trembling with rage.

 

“What?” He snarled.

 

“Yes. Children.” Jack nodded savagely. “Lizzy has barely reached seven. There’s twelve other children by my count, under the age of thirteen, five girls, discounting Lizzy, and six boys. Then there’s Kay and Flynn, they’re seventeen and sixteen, respectively. We’ve been essentially put in charge of the young ones.”

 

“Help me find you, Jackie.” Charles looked up at his quartermaster. “Help me find them. I swear to you, I’ll free them. I’ll tear the fucking bastards to pieces for doing this.” A wicked smile crossed the quartermaster’s face.

 

“I told them you would destroy them.” Jack’s voice was dark. “I promised my fellow captives that you would come for me, for them.” His eyes were alight with some dark fire. “The bastards told me that I should get used to my chains, because where I go, you would not be able to follow me.”

 

“I would kick down the gates of hell itself to come after you.” Charles growled.

 

“I told them that you would tear the Caribbean apart, that they would not escape the wrath of Charles Vane. That their begs of mercy would fall on deaf ears for what they have done.” Jack stood up. “This island was where we were transferred from ship to ship.” The scenery changed and they stood on a ship. Blank faced men surrounded them. Charles stood. “This ship carried me from Nassau. These men crew it. This man,” Jack indicated the captain who had told him that Charles could not follow him where he was going, “is the captain. His name is Myers. Find this ship and you can find where the ship I am on now is going. Find Myers and you can begin the retribution.” The scene changed again, but Charles had the image already burned into his brain. Myers was a dead man walking. “This is the ship I am on now. These are the crew.”

 

“They will die. The ships will burn.” Charles promised. Jack motioned for him to follow. The quartermaster led him down to the hold, where cells filled an entire section. The nearest ones where filled with poor bastards of different genders of ages varying from young adult to middle aged. Jack picked his way through the cells to the largest one at the back. Charles felt a pang at his heart. These were the children. Most were under the age of twelve, but there were two older ones. One, a boy, that looked an unsettling amount like he did at that age. And another, holding a small girl in her lap, keeping an eye on a sleeping Jack, that was a girl. A girl who looked scarily like Anne.

 

“Yes. I am very much aware of the fact that they look like teenage versions of you and Bonny.” Jack smiled. “These are me fellow captives. Should any of them escape and you encounter them, seek their aid. Kay or Flynn,” Jack indicated the boy then the girl, “especially. They are of powerful and rare heritages, though Kay’s is not as rare as Flynn’s. If they escape and you find them, they will help you and will jump at the opportunity to make these bastards pay.” Charles nodded.

 

“Who’s the kid?” Charles nodded towards the girl in Flynn’s lap. Jack’s eyes went soft.

 

“That would be Lizzy. She’s a sweet child, rather looks like what I imagine any daughters we might choose to have would look like.” Charles started.

 

“Jackie, we are both men.” He gave him a look.

 

“I know exactly what you are implying.” Jack rolled his eyes. “My time is up. Do ask Silver and or Bones what Children of Brid are capable of.” They returned to the beach and Jack started to grow farther and farther away.

 

“Jack wait!” Charles shouted.

 

“Give my regards to Anne.” He smiled. “Remember what you’ve seen. I promise to keep in touch.” Jack was gone.

 

* * *

 

 

Charles woke with a shout of Jack’s name. He bolted up into a sitting position. He wasn’t on the island. He was clothed.

 

“Nother nightmare?” Anne glanced at him from where she was sharpening her swords.

 

“No. Jack.” Charles stood up. “He figured out a way to visit dreams. Showed me who we gotta track down, place we gotta go.” Anne’s eyes widened. “Got a few questions for Bones and Silver.” Anne scrambled to her feet. The two headed out for to inform their allies of these new developments. “He said hi, by the way. Probably wants you to sleep so he can see you.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Rackham _dreamwalked_?” Silver blinked.

 

“Is that a big deal?” Flint raised an eyebrow. “Considering what you are?”

 

“Yes!” Silver exclaimed.

 

“Only Awakeneds with connections to magic and shit can do that.” Bones nodded. “Only a handful of them can do that.”

 

“He would have to be from a Divine with _explicit_ connections with magic, witchcraft, and the occult in order to be capable of that.” Silver continued.

 

“He said ask you two what a Child of Brid was capable of.” Charles grunted. The two gaped at him.

 

“He’s a child of _Brid_?!” Silver seemed to be doing his best impression of a fish. “That’s… he can do _so much_.” He took a deep breath. “Brid is associated with a lot of things. Witchcraft, occult knowledge, love fertility, fire, poetry… And a lot more besides.”

 

“She’s also known as a protector, guardian of children. Slayer of serpents.” Bones added. “Also big when it comes to healing.”

 

“Bout having children?” Charles blinked. Everyone gave him an odd look.

 

“How the fuck did that come up in Rackham’s visit?” Flint blinked.

 

“Said one of the kids looked like what he imagined a kid of mine and his would look like.” Charles shrugged. “Tried to tell him we were both men, wouldn’t happen. That’s when he said ask about what a Child of Brid was capable of.” Silver cleared his throat.

 

“Well. Brid _is_ considered to be a goddess associated with fertility, the hearth, feminine arts and crafts, martial arts, and love.” Silver trailed off. “Children from Divines associated with fertility… well…” He seemed quite uncomfortable.

 

“They can change into a woman or man at will.” Bones took pity on him. “Bits and everything.”

 

“Or they can change someone else as well.” Silver was red. “Two men can have a child together or two women.” There was a sound of choking.

 

“What the fuck is with you people.” Flint muttered.

 

“You ever considered?” Anne stared blankly at Silver.

 

“Um…” He got even redder. “Not found someone I would entertain the idea with before. Of having a child with, I mean. Know plenty of Awakeneds who offered the change though, said I would make a lovely woman.”

 

“Right.” Flint interrupted, clearing his throat. “Vane, are you familiar with this island Jack took you to?”

 

“Yeah. We like to stop there for a bit before we reach Nassau.” He grunted. “Three days sail.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So next chapter is Jack and co.'s new home and Team Ranger and Walrus take to the seas. We also learn a bit more about our favorite teens.


End file.
